2005-09-16
-ough
Can't you just see yourself?
I can just see myself.
Chicago.
Think about what you have told yourself you have always wanted.
What if you actually got it?
We're not talking romance here, or a grade in a class, or a new toy thing.
The thing you've always wanted
As long as you've had the ability to profoundly desire, or remember.
I have always wanted to succeed academically.
As far back as I can remember.
And consistently.
I've strived for my best
And been so critical
I've always wanted. Always!
Keep learning, get so gosh darn smart
And somehow positively and benefically apply all the knowledge.
I can just see myself.
I have to plough through. There isn't any other way.
Can't go around it,
can't go under it,
can't jump over it--
MUST go THROUGH it!
all the way.
the mental process.
protect self, delicate ego and sometimes painfully high standards, expectations.
plough through.
sat's. act's.
filling in circles and having my intelligence quanitified.
plough through.
essays.
trying to find the right way to word ideas.
plough through.
letters.
getting teachers to say nice things about me on paper.
plough through.
distraction.
far-fetched romanic whims, unenjoyed social activity, time wasters like this.
plough through.
the worries.
rejection, cost, overwhelming stress.
plough through.
everything else.
speech, grades, life.
PLOUGH THROUGH!
carve the agriculture of your life experiences as you sow the crop of your future.
read back on this later as scoff at self in a humiliated way at the repitition and seeming wishywashyness of it all.
but know i meant it.
it hits me like some underwater, delusional epiphany as i look at it from this computer screen.
Chicago.
i think about it.
it's some mexican-american 24 year old woman, living in los angeles and wearing big hoop earrings. her hair is black and frizzy and collected in a low ponytail on the back of her neck. she's talking to me, gesturing with an index finger authoritatively pointing up, with the other hand on her plump hip. about how she never worked at school, and her life is hard but definitely still liveable and good.
she's talking to me.
Chica, go!
Go.
i have to succeed.
i just gotta.
i just gotta fill in the right circles, and i just gotta study to do that.
more redundance. it just really reinforces it for me.
stupid words, the way they clash and scrape against one another. i have read so many beautiful ones; i have created few artful ones of my own. the art of a sentence, of the written word. i feel ineptly inarticulate. these words can be flowery, but they lack the substance of concrete ideas. good luck on the essays, dear. it doesn't come easy, but just work on it.
work on it all!
but play hard too. friends are amazing. it saddens me to know i'll someday not know these people, and for some that someday is sooner than later. we have so little time left. i want so much of you, i really do. i love these people. yeah, i gotta play hard. it's senior year. awesome.
it's time to go to sleep now. this is my ambitious, delusional vision. and i love it. wherever or whatever. it's gonna be good. it'll be good because i'll make it good, whatever �it� is. so i'll work a little. i try to discipline myself to the focus it will require by capturing the essence of this feeling. but for now, dreams. skiing with ben, laying on petie's hammock and giving thanks up to the sky, going with thom to the river, sitting on the hill and watching fireworks. walking with julian. the meteor shower, fixing my baby cousins' hair(s). adam's kind smile. there's lots of sweet dreams out there. good night!
leesah-likes at 11:18 p.m.